


the promises you keep

by ironccap



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Angst, Family trope, Hopeful Ending, Love, M/M, canon character death, no fix-it, sad Palermo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:01:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23163664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironccap/pseuds/ironccap
Summary: Thanks for reading! You can always follow me on mytwitter.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52





	the promises you keep

"Papa?", a soft voice sounded from the other side of the room, close to the end of the bed. It was three in the morning and Martin had fallen asleep only an hour ago, after restlessly turning around in the bed for quite a while.

"Yes, _cariño_. What's happening?", Martín said, his voice still obviously very sleepy. He sounded so tired.

"Can't sleep.", the little girl quietly murmured. She was holding her teddy bear she'd gotten from her Daddy a year ago, for her birthday.

"C'mere, tell me what's wrong.", Martín encouraged her to come and sit on the bed.

"I miss Daddy.", she sniffled. Martín looked down at her, caressing her hair. He swallowed away the lump that was slowly forming in his throat.

"I know you do. I miss your Daddy as well, my little girl.", he responded. He tried not to start crying then and there. But again, he was so tired.

"I made something for him."

"You did? What'd you make him?", Martín smiled.

"A drawing. Of us. I w'nna give it to 'im", she murmured.

"That sounds like an excellent plan, my dear Athena. We'll go and give it to him, what do you say, tomorrow morning?"

Athena just nodded and wiped away the little tears that were forming on her cheeks.

"Do you wanna sleep here, next to Papa in the big bed?", he added. Athena just firmly nodded once again. Martin picked her up, kissed her cheek and draped the blankets over her.

He and Andrés had bought that same bed years ago, a few months after they'd met each other and moved in together. Some had told them that it had been way too early, that they weren't ready yet to make a commitment like that, moving in together, sharing a space. But they'd proven them all wrong.

And then, a few months afterwards, there'd suddenly been Tatiana. Andrés' ex-girlfriend. With a baby. The baby wasn't even two years old.

"Take her.", she'd said, a shaky voice heard. "Please take her from me. The police has been hunting me down. I'm going to get put behind bars, they've found out about the robberies I've done a few weeks ago in that business that sells those expensive watches. And then they'll send her to somewhere else. An orphanage or something. I don't want that. But I can't do this. You can, Andrés. She's your child too.", and without another word, she'd ran away, leaving Andrés there, with a child.

His child.

 _Their_ child.

 _Athena_.

Andrés had explained what had happened. And Martín? He was panicking. He was so scared. He hated kids. He really couldn't stand them.

And then he looked into her eyes and immediately fell in love.

Her smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She'd gotten that smile from Andres, that was obvious.

They were walking in the park. It was a rather normal Sunday morning and Martín had promised Athena they'd go for a little walk through the park filled with tulips, roses and violets, before they'd visit Athena's Daddy.

But of course, suddenly, it had to start pouring. Martín had only left the house in just his leather jacket. Thankfully, he'd picked warmer clothes and an umbrella for Athena.

"C'mon, cariño. Let's go home.", Martín nudged her. But Athena refused to go. She just stood there, looking angrily at the ground.

"No! You promised me we could go and see Daddy today! You do this every time, Papa! You promised!", she cried, yelling loudly.

"But sweetheart, it's pouring rain right now. You're definitely going to get a cold like this. I'm just concerned for your health.", Martin tried.

"No. That's not true. You jus' don' wanna go t' Daddy. I thought you loved Daddy, Papa. Why don't you love Daddy anymore", Athena sniffled.

And that just shattered Martín's heart right into a million tiny pieces. It shattered just like the glass in his eyes during the first heist, when he'd been so sure he would've been blinded for ever with a burning pain. That had been horrible. This was worse.

Suddenly, he felt ice cold.

Martín remembered how he had felt the day that it had happened. It had been a rather hot and breezy summer afternoon. He had just finished cleaning up the apartment a bit and had poured himself a glass of whiskey — Athena had fallen asleep soundly a few hours before — when he heard it on the news. The glass had fallen out of his hand, shattering everywhere. The heat suddenly turned into ice, cold and painful, like a weight on his chest.

He hadn't been able to breathe. He couldn't move, couldn't do anything. He'd been paralyzed from the neck down, the same message repeating in his head. Andrés was dead. He was gone. For good. He'd sacrificed himself, for the band, for Sergio, for Martín. He would never come back. Martín wanted to scream. To throw things. To cry.

But he couldn't. He couldn't do that. He had to be strong. For Athena. Athena, who constantly reminded him of Andrés in everything she said, the way she smiled and even when she was throwing a tantrum. She was the only thing left of Andrés.

"Papa!", he snapped back to reality. "Papa! I'm sorry... Don't cry.", Athena said with a trembling voice. Martín just blinked in surprise. He hadn't realised he had started to cry. He quickly wiped away his tears.

He wanted to say something, tell his baby girl that the reason why he postponed the visit to Andrés for so long, was not because he didnt love him anymore. ( _God, no. How could he ever stop loving Andres?_ )

It was because he was afraid. Afraid of the fact that he'd actually been loving too much and too intense, because that's what Andrés did to him. He was afraid his heart would never heal from such a deep wound, that was left there over a year ago and was still bleeding. A wound that went deeper than the bullets shot through his soulmate's chest.

He didn't want to admit to himself that Andrés was never coming back. Admitting something like that, accepting something like that, would break him to his very core.

But how could he tell that to his not-even-four-year-old daughter, who was still so innocent? Who was just a small girl that needed to be protected, loved, and cared for?

He had to do something. Not only for himself or for Athena, but also for Andrés, because he would have wanted that. He would have wanted Martin to be happy, to enjoy life, together with their daughter, playing games and laughing together, watching the sunset, swim in the ocean, do all the things they used to do before, as a family.

"I'm sorry, Athena, you're right. Let's go visit Daddy.", he said while he picked her up and carried her away. He was going to try it. For Athena. For Andrés.

When they arrived at the cemetery, the rain had stopped completely, and the sun was starting to peak through the clouds once again. He and Athena were walking over the small path that would lead them to the more recent graves, when he suddenly shivered once again.

He couldn't do this. Or could he?

It was so hard. It was nearly impossible. He was so scared of what was going to happen.

But he had to hold on.

Suddenly, he remembered a conversation that he and Andrés had had, a few years ago after they'd gotten Athena.

"Tell me, Martín. What would you do if I died?"

"What?", Martín had been completely taken aback by the sudden question.

"What would you do if one day, I wasn't here anymore?", Andrés had repeated the question, the seriousness in his voice clearly audible.

"Why would you ask me that, Andrés?"

"I'm just curious, _hermanito_. I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

"Well, good thing you aren't losing me, then.", Martín responded, "but I would probably cry, Andrés. A lot."

Andrés just smiled at Martín, "Please don't do that.", he added.

"What? Why not."

"If I die, Martín, you should celebrate. Not my death, but my life. Celebrate me. Be happy. Meet new people. Allow yourself happiness.", Andrés spoke again. His voice was trembling.

"Andrés?", Martín had come closer to him, tangling their fingers together, "Andrés", he repeated again. Andrés looked up, glassy-eyed.

"Andrés. What's wrong?"

"Nothing is, _mi amor_. Please, don't worry.", he answered, placing a chaste kiss on Martíns lips. He looked him directly in the eyes, stroking his cheeks, "Just promise me one thing."

"Yes?"

"That you'll move on with your life. If I come to die. You have to move on. Take care of yourself, and take care of our daughter. Just promise me you'll never forget me."

"Ofcourse, Andres. I promise.", Martín had answered seriously, but with the hint of a smile. He hadn't thought much of Andrés' question. It was typical of Andrés to worry and overthink everything that happened in his life. This was just one of those things his brain did, think about doom scenarios that were most likely never going to happen.

At the time, Martin hadn't realised that Andrés had just signed his own death sentence, willingly. He hadn't realised that Andrés was sick, with the same disease as his mother. He hadn't realised Andrés was dying. If he had, he would have never let him participate in that heist. He would have tried to convince him to stay, look for the best doctors, keep on fighting. But he also knew that Andres would have never agreed with that.

Andrés had left the world doing something heroic. Sacrificing himself for the greater good. For his friends, for his family.

And all Martín wanted to do was scream. Scream away all his anger and pain, directly into the void. He wanted to yell at Andrés. He wanted to scream, tell him how unfair it had been to ask him to make such a promise. As if Martín was ever going to just 'move on' from him! What was he thinking!

But he couldn't yell at Andrés. Because Andrés wasn't there anymore to yell at.

So he did the only thing he could. He took his daughter by the hand and walked over to Andrés' grave, placed at the end of the row. He crouched down next to the grave at put down a bouquet of roses. He turned to his daughter and wiped away the hair that had fallen into her eyes.

"Here we are, baby girl.", he smiled, "is there anything you want to say to your Daddy?"

"I made you a drawing, Daddy! It's a picture of the three of us. Look! And we are in the clouds. Papa always tells me you are in the clouds. But I miss you. And then I cry, because I am sad. But then, Papa tells me that you're happy there. A-and that makes me a little less sad. B-but I still miss you a lot, Papa.", Athena sniffled.

Martín couldn't do anything else than just stand there and let the tears fall, while holding his daughter close.

"Papa?"

"Yes?"

"Can you tell me a story? About Daddy."

And so he did. He started talking and didn't stop until it got dark. Tears and laughs were shared, hugs were exchanged, stories were told.

And then, when they were on their way back home, Martín realised that he _could_ do it, after all. But he did it one day at a time. And he didn't do it alone. He had her. He had Athena.Together, they could do anything.

It became a tradition. He and Athena would visit Andrés almost every day, and then Martín would tell her stories about her father, or they would talk to Andrés about their day. Sometimes, they even just sat their in silence, looking at the clouds in the sky. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered for Martín was that he was there, with their daughter, and that he'd kept his promise to Andrés.

The promise to never forget him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can always follow me on my [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/hannib4l).


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